I don’t suppose anyone needs me to tell them that this, Maya Angelou’s coming-of-age autobiography, is an exquisite book. It’s gorgeously written, unflinchingly honest (I think that’s what boggles my mind most about the idea of writing about one’s own life – that nerve it takes to allow oneself to be so naked,) and at time sharply painful to read. I couldn’t tell you why I never read it before now, but I also don’t think I’ve ever been in a better place in my life to recognize it for the masterpiece it is (some spoilers.)
The book paints Angelou’s life between the ages of three and seventeen, following young Maya from her early childhood in Arkansas to the North and West and back again. The everpresent ugliness of racism permeates her experiences, as do the struggles of this young girl to discover who she is being forged to become in the crucible of extreme, cruel circumstances. By degrees, she starts to understand what the world is, the place that people tell her she has in it, and the place she tries to carve out for herself.
Different elements are at play here, all employed tremendously well. There’s stranger-than-fiction slices of life, like the story of a particularly charismatic worshipper whaling on the preacher in the middle of his sermon. There’s beautiful character work, like the exploration of Maya’s brother Bailey and how deeply affected he is by the existence of their “Mother Dear.” There are searing, horrendous passages, like the description of Maya’s rape as an 8-year-old. There are intellectual ruminations, social commentary, poetic beauty, heartbreaking truths, and fierce individualism. It’s at once a story containing fathoms and the story of one specific child.
I particularly love the deft exploration of race, including the influence of colorism and the intersectionality of being both Black and a girl. Angelou covers the terrifying (Momma embodying the caregiver of every Black boy who’s ever had to agonize over his safety in an unkind world when he doesn’t come home at night,) the dehumanizing (the white dentist telling Momma there’s no way he’ll put his hands in Maya’s mouth,) the unifying (everyone crowded into the store to listen to a Joe Louis fight on the radio, needing him to win as a reflection of their own legitimacy as a people,) and the soul-crushing (the speaker at Maya’s graduation talking about the top-of-the-line equipment and new teachers brought in to improve the white school, while the Black school is getting money devoted only to its athletic facilities.) In both large and small moments, threats of violence and microagressions alike, American race relations work their way into Maya’s life, and it is in that tempest of hatred, fear, and ignorance that she must come of age.
Just superb. There’s nothing more for me to say, except that I feel fortunate to have read it.
Warnings
Sexual content (including abuse of a child,) violence, language (including racial slurs,) drinking, and strong thematic elements.
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